


Hallucinations

by ThoughtsCascade



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Arguments about Cooking, Deception, Flashforward - Freeform, Hallucinations, Memory Erasure, Mental Health Issues, Other, The Master (Doctor Who) is a Bastard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26004061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThoughtsCascade/pseuds/ThoughtsCascade
Summary: The Doctor is aware he has a history of hallucinating, in this final body. The presence of a man he knows taking a new form, however, is a novelty.
Relationships: Eleventh Doctor/River Song, The Doctor/The Master (Doctor Who)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Thoschei Prompt Exchange 2020





	Hallucinations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ichabodcranemills](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ichabodcranemills/gifts).



The Doctor’s final regeneration has been filled with hallucinations. He knows Time Lord biology isn’t the same as humans, he is well acquainted with that fact given the regeneration caused by it, but he sometimes wonders if he perhaps has schizophrenia. He can never acknowledge his wife first when with others, more than once it has gotten him looks of confusion, people innocently wondering who he is speaking to. He's learnt to wait for others to speak or point her out first.

He wonders if it is hallucinations, or something else- theoreticals, perhaps, ways Time might have flowed in order to have her presence there. He occasionally sees others as well, she is simply the most prevalent. Moments he sees others tend to be the times he dismisses that theory- he may not be ginger and have additional time-sensitivity that entails, but there is no _conceivable_ way Jamie could still be traveling with him, for example. Human lifespans don’t go nearly that long. 

This is the first time, however, that he has hallucinated the Master.

It’s _particularly_ irritating because he knows the Master has never looked like this- shorter than he’s ever been, and a face more youthful than the Doctor has seen since they were youth- not that he has any room to speak. Perhaps his subconscious remembered the Master claiming that if the Doctor got to be young then so did he, their last regenerations, and took it to the logical extreme. He knows this is the Master despite all the differences, the same way he knows that he hates pears or that Earth will be okay, in the end.

Still, he bears it, grateful that Amy and Rory are settled down without him for now. When he hallucinates River at least she’s usually _quiet_ , or offering commentary meant more to amuse. His hallucination of the Master, much like the man himself- may he have achieved a quick death in the hell he’d gone back to with Rassilon, for that is the kindest option and just for once the Master deserved something easy, given his final moments, particularly if said thing didn’t come at the expense of the Doctor or any innocent lives- seems to exist only to irritate and vex him. 

He is helpful, the Doctor admits. Not that his hallucination of River _isn’t,_ but the Master had proper Time Lord training, which apparently means that his brain uses the man to remind him of long-forgotten things learnt at the Academy, and to find loopholes that even this clever self misses. 

He is _also_ consistent. Much more than the others tend to be. Most only show up once a year or so. Jamie shows up maybe once within any given gap between sleeps, Rose maybe thrice, River somewhere between five and nine. The Master, however, since he began showing up appears nearly _constantly._ Sure, occasionally he wanders off, but time spent _with_ him is much greater than time _without_.

He does at least give the Doctor the courtesy of giving him privacy when his other hallucinations come to call. The Doctor can’t help but be grateful for that, there are some things he has to say that he doesn’t want the Master to hear, even if the Master is only in his head. Occasionally the other ones overlap. Rose and Jamie had gotten along well enough that he regrets that they never met. River and Joan Redfern significantly less so, and he is grateful that pair never actually interacted. Then, Joan never seemed to get along with any of the others, and Jamie with all of them. Too bad, even if the Doctor can’t bear to think of him too often. Maybe that’s why he rarely appears.

He usually can’t bear to think of the Master either anymore, but that man was always a menace.

Being that the Master was a menace, and continues to be one even in death thanks to the Doctor’s brain being perhaps too overly nostalgic this regeneration, the Doctor takes no issue in bothering the man with every small issue and question, even if it’s crummy thanks for the help in all the adventures.

Occasionally it’s a comment properly addressed to the Master, admittedly usually drunkenly. “I miss when you called me _dear_. Made it feel like you _cared_ , you know? Then later on it was only ever Doctor, and now it only ever seems to be ‘you’. I miss that. I miss you." Not that it’s really the Master, but the hallucination does start calling him _love_ , and the Doctor isn’t sure if that’s better or worse.

Sometimes it’s trivial, a complaint about brushing past a woman whose shampoo smelt of _pears_ and the cursed fruit being the only thing the Doctor could taste for a _week_. Not that it’s trivial, but the Master’s scoff had certainly made it feel that way.

To the more serious, like questioning if he shouldn’t go pick up Amy and Rory soon. Not that it’s too serious, but the expression on the Master’s face might indicate otherwise.

He always had skewed priorities.

Well, one of them had done, at any rate.

It’s rare for the Master to verbally answer him. This is a taciturn one, except his rare moments of criticism.

He gets the occasional response, mostly when he riles him up or makes a good choice the Master thinks is questionable. As if that man had any room to talk, he thought _truffle oil_ was an acceptable ingredient. Everyone knows that it lacks the layers and flavouring complexities _proper_ truffles contain. Multitudes, missing, just for being lazy and using a substitute! They’re _Time Lords_ , they have no excuse for not properly sourcing their ingredients, instead of resorting to inferior methods such as _truffle oil_.

Ah, that had been a fun argument. Getting worked up about something so _irrelevant_ was always wonderful, a good emotional release. And the Master had seemed to enjoy it too, arguing about ingenuity and how a _skilled chef_ could make anything work, and even if it didn’t taste exactly like proper truffles it had its own flavour which could enhance a meal.

That’s another way he knows he’s imagining this Master. Too similar. They’ve not been quite so aligned in interests and temperament since childhood.

There are a few questions he finds himself afraid to ask, for fear of the Master leaving. 

One day, he realizes how _ridiculous_ he is being, given that the Master is only a hallucination. Stupid thing to get attached to. Especially given it’s _him._ The Doctor has a perfectly good wife he could be hallucinating!

...Or actually tracking down and trying to visit. Either way, really. At this point he finds it hard to distinguish, sometimes. Thankfully any time he really messes up and references an event he only hallucinated her existence for she assumes she just hasn’t reached it yet. There are a few benefits to their arrangement, this is one.

So he figures it’s not the biggest deal if the hallucination does decide to leave due to the Doctor initiating an emotions talk. Really, the Doctor wouldn’t blame him. He _detests_ emotions, he can’t imagine the Master has suddenly grown to love them- and it’s his imagination that matters, given that’s what’s creating the Master in the first place.

"Why’d you leave? I mean, any time really. Could’ve traveled with me. You are right now. Would it have been that bad?” The Doctor lays on a couch, throwing a ball up and down in the idly. The Master is pacing the room, silent as ever- as hallucinations are prone to being. He doesn’t tend to hallucinate too much in the auditory department, except occasional clicking of heels and, of course, the voices of whoever he’s seeing.

The Master hums, looking at him and slowing his pacing, leaning against the wall. The Doctor glances over, still throwing the ball. He is coordinated in some ways, after all. Just only when planets are at stake or it doesn’t matter at all.

“Skipped interacting with this you for lots of reasons. I wasn't ready. You weren't ready. There was a lot of un-readiness in the air. My last self wouldn’t have gotten along with this you at all. The one before that- well, he said it. He didn’t want to be kept a caged pet, wasn’t particularly fit for interaction. This you and my last self… too much a risk, she thought, that you’d kill her. She figured your next self would accept the gift. You’ve been on a trend. She was wrong.”

The Doctor sat up rapidly, throwing the ball at the Master’s head in complaint. “You’re not making any _sense_. You’re in _my_ brain, if you’re not going to pay rent at least making sense is the least you could do!”

As opposed to dodging the ball as he normally would with any book, food, or utensil thrown at him, the Master catches it. “If I’m only making cents I definitely couldn’t pay the rent.”

The Doctor is too busy staring to so much as register the pun. “You’re _real_!”

“Of course I am. I haven’t been _subtle_ , you’re just _obtuse_.”

“But you’re the Master- and I- and we-“ The Master had saved his life multiple times. The Master had heard all the Doctor’s rants for the last few _months_. The Master had… hung around the TARDIS and not done a single evil thing?

And he’d said the Doctor’s _next_ self, what-

The Doctor hadn’t even realized that the Master was approaching until the man lifted his chin up. Unthinkingly, the Doctor met his eyes.

“My, my, you do have _quite_ the chin this time, my dear Doctor,” the Master murmurs, free hand stroking the Doctor’s face. “Been wondering if it was as sharp as it looks. It is. A shame you aren’t quite that sharp though, despite everything…”

The Doctor finds himself mesmerized as he stares up at the Master.

“But yes,” the Master says, with a smile both more intimidating and more beautiful for knowing it’s _real_ and not just a product of his imagination. “I am the Master, and you… will forget ever meeting or knowing this face, until our next meeting.” 

In his dreams, the Doctor hears an unknown voice murmuring about _her_ having done it to Missy, he was certain, so things are only evened out now.

That dream is confusing, but soon enough it fades away until he is in a tea room, then an asylum, then a beach, then floating in space. Then he wakes up beneath the time router- ah, must have fallen asleep whilst doing repairs. That’s not too uncommon, this body. Luckily he doesn’t seem to have been in the middle of anything, so he puts everything back in place then flies off to where he needs to go. Soon enough he’s back with the Ponds, wondering why he left them alone for so long, and strange dreams about future selves he knows will never exist are banished fully from his mind- except, perhaps, a whisper, prompting him to mention the Master the next time he thinks of those who died due to his continued mercy.

At the time it doesn’t seem so out of place, even if he’s been avoiding thinking about the man this entire regeneration. The Master, after all, might have even more victims than the Daleks. 

* * *

_Two regenerations which shouldn’t have been had later and thousand or over two billion years depending on how she counted, back in Paris 1943, the Master would return her memories of the first time she met the face he would then wear to her, slipped innocuously into a_ Contact _, and the Doctor would know, months later in the Matrix, well and truly, that any chance to redeem him was long past, and that Missy was naught but a farce. For him to have taken her memories, knowing what had been done to her, that was unforgivable, timeline be damned. Even prior to that she would know it was wrong, just not how much, and she would hand him over to Nazis in return. She would remember, too, how even then she knew the Master didn’t deserve mercy, and regret that her last regeneration was so foolhardy to forget that lesson. Maybe things had worked out in Mercy when she’d had it, but only because the man had killed himself, in the end. The Master, she would be certain, would never risk death. What had_ _happened in the Matrix Chamber, she would be sure, was a fluke, designed to take her out of commission for a while as he’d start his next evil plan._

* * *

But that was later. Much, much sooner, when he still wore a cool bow tie and was staying with Amy and Rory, he met an enterprising young agent known as O, sent over by MI6 in order to absolutely ensure that the cubes were alien in nature and not a foreign attack. He was charming and clever and would make excellent companion material, so the Doctor handed over his number just in case he both outlived the Ponds and finished the task of figuring out the Impossible Girl.

**Author's Note:**

> My first time really writing the eleventh Doctor like this, so I hope it's alright tonally.


End file.
